I restarted because I wasn't 100% satisfied with my work, and it got to the point when I was forcing myself to continue. Even if I wrote 62 pages...anyways, I'm starting fresh (despite disagreements with my friends...) and yeah. I would like to thank all of my friends, especially John Cliff , Nor Nors, Sydney and Rogue Energizer Bunny (REB) for giving me ideas and helping me out ;). Anyways, I'll shut up now, so enjoy!

Chapter 1

I stare at the front door, ruminating about many things at once. My gaze flickers momentarily to the grocery list that my father forgot at home, and I crumple it, wondering if somehow, he remembered the list and chose not to bring it. Or maybe he made his own. Maybe. There are endless possibilities, but this has happened many times in the past and it has always ended the same way. Irresponsibility and carelessness aren't good qualities to have, and thankfully, I didn't inherit them from him. No one in my family did. Sometimes I wonder if we're really blood related.

The front door flies open and my father wobbles in, drunk, carrying an armload of beer bottles. Anger bubbles inside of me, but I don't show it. I never did, ever. As a child, I was taught to always keep your emotions inside, never to display it to the public. This is Rule number 26, but sadly some people don't follow it. Some don't think that it's right, but I find those people really stupid. Logically, if you tell everyone what you think, you'll get yourself killed, one way or another.

Without saying a word, I lead my father towards his bedroom, under our winding stairs, and open the door with one hand. He plops onto the bed, snoring loudly, and I cover him up with his bed sheets, unable to hide a clear expression on disgust on my face, and back out of the room as fast as I can.

I stop, cold, when I see a small boy standing behind me and I shut the door behind me, praying that he didn't see anything. Nickie's thick brown waves are covering his eyes, but I imagine him wearing an expression of bewildered curiosity, not an apprehensive one. He's normally quiet and selfless, so he's acting abnormally today. But if I was in his place, I suppose that I might be a bit curious too.

Nickie raises his head and his eyes dart up to mine. "Is father sick again?"

"N-no," I answer groping for an explanation. "He's just...tired, t-that's all,"

My little brother stands there processing this through his brain, and sticks his hands into his pockets. "Oh," he replies after a brief moment of consideration, and shuffles back to his room. I sigh quietly to myself, sagging my shoulders. Deep down, I know that he doesn't believe me, but thankfully he's smart and doesn't ask too many questions. Like I taught him.

My feet take me up the stairs, all the way to my room and I collapse onto my bed, exhaustion taking over my body. The distinct ticking sound coming from my clock is the only thing that I hear, besides the rhythmic snoring originating from the room downstairs. I glance mindlessly at the object I hold in my right hand, and reality kicks in. A mixture of fear and anger surges through me as I glare at the bottle of whiskey that I still clutch firmly in my hand; Nickie saw it. Cursing under my breath, I jump out of bed and place it on my bedside table.

"Centa?" pipes up a small voice behind me.

"WHAT?" I yell as loud as I dare. Shortly afterwards, I grimace painfully at my mistake; I was not intending to be that harsh, at all.

Nickie's looking like I just slapped him. Soundless tears begin to roll down his cheek and I kneel down to embrace him. "I'm sorry," I whisper kindly, holding him close to me. "I didn't mean it. Really. Why are you out of bed?"

"I f-forgot to say goodnight," he answers, wiping his face with his sleeve.

I smile and hug Nickie again. This is one of the reasons why I love my little brother. This kind of pure innocence, untouched, is hard to come by nowadays. Practically impossible. And he means it; it's not an act. But then again, it's impossible to act something out if you don't know what it is in the first place.

A rough resounding sound erupts underneath us and I pull away from Nickie immediately, holding my breath. My father pauses momentarily, but resumes snoring a while after and I exhale thankfully. A sound like that could've woken up anyone. Even my father.

It takes me a few moments to steady myself; I'd hate to think what would've happened if that did wake my father up. The same sound starts again and I strain, trying to distinguish it. A knock. A knock on our door to be more specific.

I tiptoe downstairs, as quietly as a mouse, Nickie hot on my heels. He crashes into me when I stop and looks at me.

"What?" he whispers.

"Nickie, I want you to wait in your room," I put my hands on his shoulders. "Remember last time? You don't want that to happen again don't you?"

A brief look of disappointment shows itself on Nickie's face, but it's masked by a blank expression, like the one we all wear to school. I don't want Nickie to be angry with me, so I decide to compromise.

"You get the rifle, load it, and meet me downstairs, 'k?" I say, turning around to leave. A small pitter-patter of footsteps tell me that he happily obeyed and I continue on my trajectory towards to door.

Another round of knocks commence and I get there in no time and rest my ear on the rough wood, searching for a familiar sound. Nothing. Nothing but the sounds of night. I place my knuckles on our door and knock seven times, in a specific pattern that I only taught to the people I trust. And that only includes two people, besides Nickie and I.

"Got it," says Nickie holding out the family rifle towards me, and I take it nodding to acknowledge his presence.

Our visitor hasn't answered yet and I'm starting to wonder if I'm really going to need this rifle. I have never killed anything before, and hopefully I never will. Killing hurts your reputation beyond repair around here, and I don't want to become a Vinctus. I don't want to live in a heavily guarded area where you're being watched all the time, tortured when you disobey their rules. I'd rather be dead than that.

I gesture towards Nickie and the door, hoping that he'll get my message. He nods in reply and clasps the doorknob firmly, his knuckles white with tension. We make eye contact and I hold out three fingers...two fingers...one finger. Nickie yanks the door open and hides behind it while I attempt to hold out the rifle threateningly.

"You gonna shoot me?" mocks a voice in front of me.

I sag my shoulders in relief and lower my guard completely. I am about to ask why he didn't knock back but I catch myself when I see four bagfuls of something that smells like food. My pupils dilate in shock and Nickie pokes me from behind.

"Uh...right, c-come in," I blurt out.

"Watcha bring Kevin? Watcha bring?" asks Nickie, hopping up and down.

"Well," laughs Kevin, running his fingers through his bright blonde hair. "I brought some apples, peaches, flour...and a squirrel,"

I cover my mouth, hiding the broad grin on my face and help Kevin take the food out. One of the bags contain about a pound of flour, another contains a dead squirrel with clear knife marks branded into its flakey skin and I freeze when I look in the other bags. There's no freshly picked apples or peaches, like I assumed, but cans. I grab one and look at it closely. Through the layer of mud and grime I can see an unmistakable label:

THE STORE

"Kevin!" I whisper loudly. "You stole this from The Store!"

"Look Centa, what else am I suppose to do? Let you starve?"

"But if they caught you-"

"They didn't,"

"But-"

A hushed warning comes from Nickie and we stop our bickering. He's right, we can't argue here, not while my father's asleep. I glare at Kevin and continue to take the cans out, one by one. The Store is the one out of two places where we can get food. The Head of each family is responsible to go to The Store every Sunday to pick out two food items for each member of the family. I personally don't agree with these terms; you should have to pass a test then they decide who eligible and who's not. Heck, my father definitely wouldn't pass.

"How's the game out there?" I ask, hoping to change the subject.

Kevin shrugs. "Alright,"

"That's good," I reply. "Oh by the way, did you get some fruit?"

"Yeah. Apples-"

"You know what I'm talking about,"

When I first met Kevin I was seven and he was eight. I was helping my mother gather strawberries. Secretly, I would always sneak a few into my mouth, but that was selfish. I didn't understand how important every berry was.

"Ahem,"

My head snapped up immediately to face a boy with bright blonde hair sticking up in every direction imaginable, and stay quiet.

"You want some?" he asked, offering me a plump purple fruit.

"..." I quieted, scooting away gradually. My mother always told me to never trust strangers, so it was natural.

"Uh...you sure?" he pursued. "They taste real good, kinda like when you mix the bestest thing you've ever tasted with...something else,"

"Best," I corrected. "Didn't your parents teach you how to speak properly?"

"Dunno," he shrugged, evading my eyes. "I-I'm gonna go now-"

"Give me the fruit," I smiled. I don't know what it was about him, but somehow I felt like I've known him for a long time. "I want to see if it's the bestest thing I've ever had,"

The boy smiled warmly and handed me the fruit. I took an enormous bite out of that plump fruit and immediately a wonderful taste exploded on my taste buds; it tasted like strawberries.

"My name's-"

"I know what your name is," said the boy. "Your name's Centa Gibson,"

"Oh," I ignored the fact that he might've been stalking me. "W-what's your name?"

"Kevin,"

"What's your last name?" I pursued.

"Don't got one," he mutters, almost shamefully. I blinked several times trying to take that in. "I don't have a family. I found that tree and I've been livin' on it for a w-while," concluded Kevin, staring at his feet. I swear that I detected a spark of...something in his eyes. Anger? Hatred? I thought that I simply imagined it and proceed to devouring the fruit.

"You know that creek with the broken bridge?" I asked.

"Yup,"

"I live right by it, the house with the willow tree beside it,"

A hear a soft, but frantic voice call my name somewhere and I got up. "Don't forget to visit me!" I called back while running full-speed towards my mother, my light brown hair flying behind me. At that moment I knew that I just made a new friend, hopefully one that would stay with me through my entire life.

"Unfortunately, no," sighs Kevin pausing briefly. "I haven't gone to check on it for a while,"

"Oh,"

Kevin and I finish sorting out the food items and we stand there in silence. A sudden flash of light divides the night sky in two and hard rain follows.

"Can Kevin stay?"

"Sure I can," answers Kevin sitting beside Nickie on our couch. "And if you brush your teeth and change into your pajamas in the next ten minutes, we can play a game,"

And all we can hear are the scrambling footsteps and limbs flying up the stairs and Nickie is gone.

"What happened to asking me first?" I ask playfully. "After all I'm the woman of the house,"

"I don't see any women here,"

I pounce on top of him and attempt to pin him down but Kevin's too strong for me. He flips me over and I land painfully on the couch.

"Crap," I say, massaging the back of my head.

"Okay, I take that back," laughs Kevin. "There's definitely a woman here,"

"At least I can shoot more accurately than you,"

"I'm better at using my knife,"

"Well I'm better at camouflage,"

"I'm a pro at throwing...things,"

"I'm smarter than you,"

"Okay, can't argue with that,"

Satisfied at winning this debate, I lounge comfortably, resting my head on Kevin's shoulder and sigh. Small footsteps tell me that Nickie is coming downstairs and I sit normally; I have to set an example to him.

"What are we going to do Kevin?" asks Nickie running up to us, wearing striped pajamas.

"Well...uh...what do you want to do?" grins Kevin. He obviously did not think about this in advance.

"Uh...play a game," Nickie answers unblinkingly. "Like you said,"

"I've got one," I pipe up. "Well, it's not exactly a game, but...w-why don't we read the book. The one mother gave to us,"

Kevin nods. "Sure. I haven't heard it in a while,"

I get up and trot towards a rusty safe, sitting solitarily in the corner of our house, and punch in the four-digit code. The numbers flash several times and the safe opens, releasing a huge cloud of dust. I cough and wave the dust away with my hand, then reach in it. My hands grope in it for a while then I catch hold of a large object. Pulling it out quickly, and shutting the safe's door quickly is my next task, and I complete it willingly. I blow some of the dust off the book's smooth surface and walk back to the couch where Kevin and Nickie are waiting quietly.

"Got it,"

My glace shifts to the front cover, an old slip of paper is laying in the dark, cold background, with a simple title engraved on the front cover:

Money

I open up the book to its first page and read with a clear voice. "What is money? It is an object that people used to exchange for goods and services. It was most commonly found-"

"Skip this part,"

I glare at Kevin and find that he's trying his best not to smile. "Sorry but, I really don't care about what it is...I wanna know how it ended,"

"Okay then,"

I flip to the back of the book and open it up to the face of a woman, fear showing clearly in her face. A long jagged scar runs down her forehead and blood is oozing from a gash on her forehead. This is why I read it out loud, and not show it to Nickie. "The rebellion started during the late 3000s, when most of the population was forced into poverty due to the cause of raised taxes. The government raised them so high, that people disagreed and formed an alliance among each other. They called their group the Numquam Viridi. The Numquam Viridi did terrible things, and more people began to join them, not for power, but out of fear. Chaos striked the world, thousands died, both innocent and guilty and it grew out of control. After several years of war and protesting, the government gave up. They enforced a new rule, a rule that would change the world forever, that money shalt be terminated. The government invented a new word to represent this state: Centless,"

I close the book and let it rest on my lap peacefully. We are centless. Not a coin in our world. Throughout my whole life I have imagined, unsuccessfully, how much our world would change if there was money. To this day, I still think about it.

"Numquam Viridi," mutters Nickie. "Wonder how they came up with that,"

"Don't know," I agree. "Everyone probably forgot about money by now anyways,

"Not true. Your mother didn't Centa," says Kevin, turning his head towards Nickie. "And Nickel,"

"Don't call me that!" growls Nickie. "It sounds stupid,"

"Not true. I wish that I had an awesome name like that, but no, I'm plain, old Ke-"

He freezes and his eyes dart up to the large, staggering figure shuffling towards us. I'm praying that he's sober. Usually he his, after a nap, but we can't be sure.

My father walks up towards us, his fists clenched together at his sides. I can see a long, deadly object clamped firmly in his hand, a gun. I didn't know that we even owned one. No one is moving a muscle. We're all as frozen as statues.

"S-snap out of it," I stammer, hoping to trigger something out of this useless, drunk lump. "Put the gun down,"

My father hesitates and stares at me through his beady, cold eyes and looks at Nickie, Kevin and I one by one. His right arm suddenly jerks and he raises it, slowly. Moments later, I find myself staring right at the gaping hole of the gun, and I feel the color leave my face. I draw another shaky breath as I see my father's hand lower half an inch.

But then he pulls the trigger.

Author's Note: REVIEW, REVIEW AND REVIEW! Yeah, I love reviews. I'm since I'm an evil person (:D) I'm going to make a new rule: "I shalt not update until I obtain at least 5 reviews per chapter," Yeah, I'm mean. And if you review twice, it doesn't count :). Yeah, don't worry, there's gonna be a bit more action in the next chapter and the plot will be slightly more defined (yeah...I said SLIGHTLY not COMPLETELY) Alright, so stay tuned for chapter 2 and...REVIEW :D!

~Layne

(P.S. If you review I'll give you a virtual cookie :D)